


Interlude in Ivarstead

by auricolet



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Elder Scrolls - Freeform, F/M, Werewolf, bosmer - Freeform, wood elf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 11:07:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25968607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auricolet/pseuds/auricolet
Summary: The Dragonborn and Faendal traveling to High Hrothgar. The Bosmer share an intimate moment
Relationships: Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Faendal
Kudos: 7





	Interlude in Ivarstead

Narfi’s old hut sat abandoned, crumbling further since his death. Tharwen had come to Ivarstead once more, now hardened by what she had seen and done. She had killed many dragons, men and mer. She had gathered new ranks for the Blades, defeated Ulfric in single combat, become a secret scourge of the Thalmor, and had raided many dens housing the Silver Hand. Now, she was left unsure, faced with a decision presented to her by those whose goals most aligned with hers - to kill one of her greatest allies. Her hatred of the Thalmor, shared with the Blades, was strong - perhaps strong enough to force her hand, and murder one of her greatest teachers. She had not come to a decision, and sitting in the dead man’s hut, with her wolf beside her, she felt more conflicted than she ever had before.

She glanced to wolf, silently giving him permission to leave, and go hunt for himself. His eyes returned understanding, and he padded away, bounding through the opening in the side wall. Tharwen sat near her bed roll, pondering.

“Want me to take first watch?”

Faendal’s voice broke her silent concentration. She looked up toward him, seeing his expression soften. Since assisting Malborn, she had missed having the company of her own. There were so few Bosmer in Skyrim, and many had completely abandoned the old ways. She had assumed as much of Faendal as well, but since recruiting him to join her in her quest with Paarthurnax, she found that he had adapted well, and remembered more than she had given him credit for. With his help, she was able to understand how to refine Bosmer armor - making the leather as tough and hardened as iron or steel.

She studied him, feeling a surprising rush of heat, almost discomfort. “No, thank you brother. You can rest if you like. I will stay nearby, perhaps find an offering for the Greybeards.”

Faendal nodded, stoking the nascent fire built in the remnants of the ash and charcoal of the previous hearth. “As you wish.”

Tharwen wandered upriver a short ways, tending to her thoughts, as she watched the water’s edge. A trio of elk approached gingerly, the males stepping into the river, up to their torso; the female standing a little ways back. Tharwen watched them, the males bellowing at each other for a while. She decided to hone in on the smaller of the two - she knew he would lose the female’s interest anyhow.

An arrow through the eye made quick work of the elk, and it fell, still partly submerged in the water. Tharwen hurriedly cast off her armor, wading in nude with her bow and blade, to retrieve the carcass. She made quick work of it, taking only a small amount of the meat to carry to High Hrothgar and indulged herself. She waded back into the water till it rose to her chest, to clean herself off, and sensed a presence. Turning sharply, her eyes glinted yellow, as she prepared to call her inner beast. Her demeanor changed instantly as she saw the wood elf’s silhouette. She felt the heat again.

“I thought you were going to rest.” Tharwen’s voice was almost dismissive, not wanting him to know the flux of emotions she was experiencing.

“You were gone for a while…” He glanced across the river, taking note of the deer. “I wanted to make sure you were well.”

She felt his eyes travel over her, taking in what was almost always covered by armor and cloaks. Her arms and stomach lean and muscular, strong legs and pert, small breasts. She repressed a shiver and walked toward him.

“We need to rest. I want to leave before dawn. The pilgrimage is not a simple trek.”

He averted his eyes, politely, as she dressed herself once more, and held onto the meat she had retrieved, now wrapped in the creature’s hide. “Very well.”

* * *

Tharwen watched him sleep, his chest rising and falling. She had never felt this way before, a deep-seated urge to feel his skin in her hands. This was no blood-lust, but something equally compelling. She was struggling to focus on the problem at hand now, vexed as she studied his bare chest, smelling the sweat and leather of the armor, as well as his own body’s phermones.

It was almost without conscious thought that she gave into her primal nature, as often dictated her actions. She stripped down once more, and curled up next to him, breathing in his scent more deeply, placing her lips on the back of his neck, tasting the salty, unique flavor. He stirred, still asleep, but faced her, a hard protrusion now against Tharwen’s thighs. Her breath caught in her throat, as the rush of heat intensified, and she saw his eyes flutter open, gasping silently.

She moved away from him, as he had burnt her. “I apologize.. I should not have…” Tharwen was rarely flustered, and she didn’t quite know what to do with herself.

Faendal collected himself, and reached toward her. “I wasn’t exactly expecting this, but if this is what you want…” He let it linger. Camilla had never formally accepted his flirtations, and she and Faendal had spent many nights on the road together since she had requested his help.

She cautiously approached him again, feeling the pull stronger now. It was like the rush toward transforming, and her feral self wanted this, and wanted it badly. Tharwen pulled herself on top of him, as he leaned toward her to kiss her, while she bit his bottom lip, just hard enough to draw blood. In response, he gripped her hips tightly, his fingers digging into her skin, and thrust the length of himself into her. Tharwen let out an audible gasp, mixture of pain and pleasure. It was not the first time she had been penetrated, but it was the first time she had done so with someone she felt compelled toward. The way he smelled aroused her, and she began to match his movements, thrusting atop him, whimpering as he reached deep within her body. She pulled her body as close to his as she could, their torsos pressed together as he tried to go deeper, and she bit and sucked on the exposed skin of his neck, clawing her fingers into his back and shoulders. As she reared up, supporting herself on her palms against the floor, he suckled and nipped her nipples, causing her to writhe more atop him, pressing her hips into him, as deeply as she could. She could feel her knees ache slightly as pressed against the floor but it quickly was pushed to the back of her mind, as his hand reached between her legs, and she felt as if she were about to burst into flame, as the intensity of the feeling grew between them.

Although shorter than she, Faendal swiftly turned the tables, now bearing down on her from the top, as she began to shudder and yelp from the growing sensation, peaking. Tharwen couldn’t think, her mind aflame with pleasure, as he rode her as hard as he could, her back hard against the fading wood floor of the run down cabin. She could barely move, as she felt the surge of heat emit from him, spreading from within her own body, and he curled up atop her, basking in the afterglow of their mating.

Tharwen sensed the wolf returning, and tried to tell him to stay back, not wanting him to interrupt their quiet moment. She could see the sky beginning to pale as well, and felt herself being pulled back to the real world, to face the decision she had not yet made. But with Faendal atop and inside of her, she felt just a little less anxious. At least there was this moment before making the journey of seven thousand steps once more.


End file.
